


All is fair in Love and War

by Briar_Rose7



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: But I totally forgot to post this story here, Dark Castle, F/M, Finally here we are, Fluff, Humor, I know it's January, Prank Wars, Rumbelle Christmas in July 2015, Then I remembered but I was too lazy to do it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-14
Updated: 2016-01-14
Packaged: 2018-05-13 23:24:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5720911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Briar_Rose7/pseuds/Briar_Rose7
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My prompt was "DC prank wars, Belle wins".<br/>Oh, and remember that Rumple is a sore loser.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All is fair in Love and War

**Author's Note:**

> There's not much to add, just that this was my gift for lovely doodlinglina and that I had way too much fun writing this.

 

When she’d accepted to become the Dark One’s maid, Belle had expected many things. She’d expected Rumplestiltskin to be mean. She’d expected him to shower her with strenuous duties and to punish her for the tiniest mistake, she’d expected him to be so cruel that she’d believed him when he’d told her he hunt children for their pelts.

What she’d not expected in the least was that her new master would reveal himself to be more similar to a five years old pesky child than to the heartless monster he was known to be.  
_He_ ’d started it. He’d started it and now he was going to face the consequences. When he’d come home from his last deal, the previous day, he’d brought her a lovely new teacup as a present. She’d been pleasantly surprised by the gesture and had rushed to make tea for the two of them. Too bad her new teacup was an enchanted, nose-biting one. Rumplestiltskin had laughed so hard he’d nearly chocked on his own tea. Just nearly, unfortunately.  
But two could play that game and she was most certainly going to play.

Rumplestiltskin was spinning in the great hall when she entered with the tea tray. He took a seat at the table while she handled him his chipped cup; with the most innocent smile possible, she watched as he sipped his tea, widened his eyes in surprise and spat it out in disgust.

“You wicked little maid, what the hell did you do to my tea? Did you put salt in it?” She put on her best repenting face. “I’m _so_ sorry, I must have mistaken it for sugar. You know, my nose is still some from yesterday and it’s pretty difficult to tell an ingredient from the other in this state.” Sarcasm dripped from every word as she cast him as accusatory glance. He faked offense.

“Is this a revenge for my little prank?”

“Let’s call it a fair payback.” Rumplestiltskin eyed her carefully.

“It’s a declaration of war then.”

“Only if you plan on pranking me anymore.” Belle sat on the table right next to his chair, a defiant look on her face.

“Then war shall be. I guess now it’s time to make the rules.” This was starting to be way too funny.

“First of all, no magic allowed. it would be an unfair advantage.” He snorted and almost pouted at her. 

“If you want to make it incredibly boring, then _fine_ : I won’t use my magic on you or on other objects. Second rule: we can’t use the same trick twice: I’d like to drink my tea without further worries from now on.”

“We also can’t use a trick the other used; we have to be creative in our shenanigans. And given that about 24 hours passed between our first two pranks, I’d say that the first one who can’t reciprocate within 24 hours loses ”

“The first one who can’t reciprocate in the due time _or_ who surrenders.”

“Don’t count on that, Rumplestiltskin. I will win this war. And don’t even think on vanishing until my 24 hours are over; the time only counts if we’re both in the castle.” Rumplestiltskin tilted his head, marveling at the strange woman he’d chosen as a maid. She wasn’t as naive as he’d thought and she seemed to be really enjoying this. But he was going to change her mind; she was _so_ going to lose.

“What’s the prize for the winner?” She was thoughtful for a moment, then her eyes lit up and her smile widened.

“If I win, you’ll join me in a stroll through your garden. It’s such a beautiful sight, all covered in snow and ice, and you don’t even spare a glance at it. You can’t spend all your days locked in your tower or arranging deals, you need some distraction.” He looked bewildered at her. Why would she ask for something like that? Did she really enjoyed his company? Very unlikely. More likely, she was so desperate for company that she would even accept that of the monster who’d forced that solitude upon her in the first place. He leaned forward so that their faces were even closer. “And if I win, well, _when_ I win, you’ll stop sticking you teacup-bitten nose in my business.” That said, he poked her still red nose and got up. “Do we have a deal, then, dearie?” He held his hand out to her, smirking, every inch the crazy dealmaker. Belle briefly wondered if it was normal of her to find it so funny.

“Deal”

“Then off with you, foolish maid. My move.” And with that he vanished in a cloud of purple smoke.

* * *

“RUMPLESTILTSKIN!” The imp giggled when the _sweet_ voice of his crossed maid reached his ears. “You may be known as the Spinner, but I swear this was the last straw!” Rumplestiltskin kept spinning lazily as Belle’s footsteps got closer and closer. As she marched into the hall, he looked up to admire his work. He’d known his plan had worked the moment he’d heard her scream, but looking at it was a whole different thing. He really had done a wonderful job: Belle’s skin was covered in large blue spots that gave her quite a comical look. Her equally blue eyes were raging with fire

“How. Did. You. Dare.” He quirked an eyebrow at her.

“I thought that we were in a prank war.” She pointed an accusing finger at him.

“You’ll regret this.”

“I doubt that.”

“You said no magic; you cheated!”

“I said no magic, I never said ‘no magical power on your dress’”

“Undo this. Right _now_.”

“I don’t think I will.”  
“Oh yes, you will. Your prank was successful, you scored a point, now bring my skin back to its normal color!”

“And why would I do that? It matches your dress and your eyes and you look really cute like this.” He froze as soon as the last words left his mouth. He’d not meant that. He’d definitely _not_ meant that. 

“Why, thank you.” She was smiling. Why was she smiling? She wasn’t supposed to be smiling.

“You better go before I decide to make it permanent.” She shot him a last knowing glance, one that said both “you never would” and “I’m gonna make you pay for this” and left the room, mind already racing on her next move.

* * *

The next morning, Belle got up early out of excitement and rushed downstairs to make breakfast, trying with little success to keep her mind busy. She couldn’t wait to see if her plan had worked; she kept looking around, jumping at every little noise and constantly hoping to see him. She was quite pleased with the idea she’d come up with, even if she still had doubts about it. Maybe she shouldn’t have done that. She _definitely_ shouldn’t have done that. After all, he’d told her she looked cute and a few hours later he’d given her the potion to bring her skin back to normal… but they were at war and during war there was no room for mercy. 

When he finally entered the hall, she didn’t even have the time to relish the end of her waiting: she burst out laughing on the spot. She doubled over, holding her stomach as laughter threatened to suffocate her. Rumplestiltskin looked bewildered at her, clearly oblivious to the source of her hilarity. Thanks to the lack of mirrors in the castle, she would be able to see his reaction when he saw _it_.

“Look… in the… mirror” She spurt out between laughs, trying to answer his unspoken question. He shot her a truce glance and paced towards the covered mirror. He took the drape off it and finally realized what Belle was laughing at. That damn woman!

“What the hell did you do to my hair?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” She said as she caught her breath. “I dyed it.” And what a color she’d chosen. The Dark One’s hair was now dyed a bright, unmistakable, embarrassing shade of… _fuchsia._ Rumplestiltskin considered himself a monster but he was starting to fear the lovely girl he’d brought to his castle was actually the devil himself.

“What… why… How…” He stammered, hastily covering the mirror in fear that Regina might see what Belle had done to him; he would die of shame if the queen ever knew about this.

“I just added some coloring potion in you shampoo. It was really easy, actually.”

“You used one of my potions? Which part of ‘never go into my laboratory without my permission’ didn’t you understand?”

“I guess it’s ‘never”” She sat on his table once again. How many times did he have to tell her not to do that? Oh, right, he’d given up on that ages ago.

“Don’t toy with me, maid. I’m gonna fix this disaster and then you’ll pay a steep price for this.”

“I wouldn’t try to fix that with magic. You told me it’s best not to mingle potions and spells; I guess now you’ll have to wait until it wears off.”

“WHAT?”

“Oh, don’t worry, it shouldn’t last more than a few hours. Until then, you’re stuck in this castle with me: no poofing away to make deals today. Do you think you can survive this?”

“It’s _you_ who should be worried.”

“Well, I’m not. Would you like me to read something to you, given that you’re stuck here?”

“I’d like you to do what I brought you here for and clean every once in a while, not just to stick your nose into the books you’re supposed to dus…” And than, suddenly, he stopped in mid-sentence. He knew what he had to do to take his revenge. He’d imagined her roaming through the library, lovingly stroking the cover of each book before picking one, her gaze lost in a daydream and a lovely smile on her face… hell, no, he’d not imagined that. Definitely not. He wasn’t interested in his maid’s smile. Beside the point. He knew what he needed to do to pay her back. “Now that I think of it, listening to a story wouldn’t be bad. Go to your library and fetch a good book, I’ll wait here.”

Belle wasn’t fooled by his sudden change of attitude, but she couldn’t for her life tell what he was planning. She decided to keep her guard up, but as soon as she left the hall her mind started racing about what book to bring him. What could he possibly like? He’d been to so many different places, so he probably didn’t share her fascination for tales set in exotic lands; he would probably interrupt her every five words to complain about how the tale wasn’t historically or geographically accurate. All tales about heroes and adventures were out of discussion; those tales always featured some dark wizard or creature who was killed in the end, and reading such a tale to him would be quite offensive. As she mused over her problem, she finally reached the library. She started walking through the shelves, stroking the covers as she passed. Romance novels were out of the question too: definitely not appropriate. She kept picking up books and putting them down until she was in front of the myth section. Here she noticed a book she didn’t remember seeing before: it was clad in red leather and was, apparently, titled “Beauty and the Beast”. She’d never heard of such a story. Weird. She picked the book to take a peek at the story and understand what it was about (and how she’d never noticed it before) but the moment she touched it she felt it… _tingle_ under her fingers. One second later, the book literally _screamed_.

“THAT TICKLES!” She dropped the book abruptly and it fell on the floor, opening to a random page on which appeared the sign “You fell for it.” Another second later, the book turned itself into Rumplestiltskin, hair still fuchsia, who was giggling like a madman. Or maybe it was the madmen who giggled like Rumplestiltskin. Yeah, probably.

“You are _impossible_.” She’d started her sentence out of anger and fright but ended it on a sweeter note, like a mother scolding her child. Even though their relationship was nothing like that. She watched him giggle with her hands on her hips, marveling on how rarely she’d seen him laugh like that. It wasn’t quite a human laugh, but was less impish, less forced than his usual giggles. This was an honest laugh, or as an honest laugh as she would get from Rumplestiltskin. She liked that. She hoped she could see him laugh like that more often and, after all, a prank and a scare wasn’t too much an high price for that.

“Thank you, dearie, for being so predictable. I knew you wouldn’t resist the unknown book.” But as much as she liked his laughter, she still wasn’t letting him win.

“You used magic. Again.”

“And again I’m telling you that this magic was perfectly legit. I used it on myself, not on you or on the books.” She let out a resigned sigh and watched as he got up from the floor, 

shaking the dust from his leather breeches. So the whole “read me a book” thing had been an excuse for this. Well, that didn’t mean she had to lose the chance.

“Well then, given that you’re here would you mind choosing the book I’ll read to you?” He looked completely taken aback by her request. Someone else might have thought he was annoyed by her request, but she knew him better. He still didn’t believe she liked spending time with him. 

“Come on, there must be a story in here that you would like to hear!” He tried to think of something, he really did, but his brain seemed to be suddenly empty; he spent endless awkward seconds just looking at her in confusion, until the gods apparently took pity on him and gave him an idea. 

“There might be something… but it’s not here, it’s in my tower… I’ll go get it.” And with that he was gone in a cloud of smoke. A few seconds later he was back, clutching a very worn-looking book, his eyes still uncertain. 

“It’s an old tale I got while I was doing a research on the Will o' the Wisps… I thought you might like it.” That research had brought him none closer to his son, but if it got him at least a book Belle would like then it hadn’t been a total waste of time. Not that he was so interested in giving her new books she might like or in the wonderful smile she made when she clutched them to her chest. Not at all. 

“Will o' the Wisps? Did you really see them? Everyone always told me they were just a legend but I never believed them.”

“Slow down, dearie, and be patient. It’s you who should tell the story, not the other way around.” She took the book from him and brushed his fingers in the process. He totally didn’t mind. Really, he didn’t.

“Shall we go to the hall, then?”

“It’s not a bad idea. Lead the way.”

“You know” she said, as soon as they were leaving the library “You really should consider keeping your hair this color. It suits you.”

“Oh, shut up.”

* * *

Rumplestiltskin was starting to feel the taste of victory; Belle’s time was almost over and she’d not managed to prank him yet. She’d not showed up for breakfast, though, so he needed to be careful; she was probably planning something. He climbed the stairs up to his workroom, imagining the face she would make while admitting her defeat. He opened the door of his laboratory and froze on the spot, horror washing over him. Belle lied on his laboratory’s floor, apparently unconscious. He kneeled at her side in a heartbeat and held his breath until he was sure she was still alive. He tried to wake her up, but to no avail.  What had happened to her? He suddenly realized there were various broken vials in a pool of liquid next to her. Stupid girl! She must have come into his tower to prank him somehow, but being the clumsy little thing she was she’d broken something and got in trouble. He could just hope she’d not spilled some powerful venom on herself. The real problem, though, was that she’d been probably touched by _more_ than one potion; the effects of something like that were unpredictable.

“You better not die, I won’t go through the trouble of finding another maid just because you’re incredibly clumsy.” His remark lacked its usual bite, worry seeping through his habitual mask. He needed to move her from the cold floor. He magicked a cot into the room, then carefully cradled her in his arms to move her. Gods, she was so tiny, so fragile, like even the softest touch could kill her. But he knew that under that apparent fragility there was a spine of steel; she wouldn’t die, she _couldn’t_ die. She was strong and brave enough to stand her ground against him, there was no way she would be defeated by a stupid potion. He slowly laid her on the cot, sitting by her side to check on her. She was not feverish and her breathing seemed regular. She didn’t look like she was in pain anyway, and there was no particular spell over her, only a slight tingle of magic caused by whatever potions she’d managed to pour on herself. But which potions? He would need to analyze the liquid pooled next to where she fainted, but if it really was a mixture of different potions it would take hours to do so. He didn’t want to wait hours, he needed to know right now! 

He realized panicking would not help him. He needed to calm down. He needed to think what potions he owned that could possibly cause this. Gods, he couldn’t even remember all of his potions! He should have listened to Belle when she told him to make an inventory and not just leave things around as he used to do. She constantly scolded him for being so messy even though _she_ was the one who left books everywhere in her wake.

“Don’t worry, I will find a way to heal you.” He reluctantly left her side and started working frantically. He kept glancing back at her every few seconds. She was always there, always unmoving, always still. But at least she wasn’t getting worse, that was something. After an hour of rummaging through scrolls and cauldrons, he was hit by a terrible thought. What if she’d fallen under a Sleeping Curse? He’d owned that kind of potion at a certain point, but for his life he couldn’t remember if he still had it or not. Should he summon her betrothed and have him kiss her? Somehow, the idea mad him cringe. She hadn’t looked too fond of the knight, after all. No, they probably weren’t true love. And, anyway, he wasn’t sure she was under a Sleeping Curse. He wasn’t going to let some guy kiss his maid just to give it a try, he wasn’t that desperate. Not yet, at least.

Another hour passed. Another two. He blew up a cauldron because he was paying more attention to Belle’s unconscious form than on what he was doing; she didn’t seem to notice the noise or the pungent smell. Another hour passed as he grew more and more desperate. When the analysis on the potions he’d found near her gave no meaningful result, he gave into despair. He threw a couple vials against the wall and slumped on the cot next to her.

“I’m sorry, Belle, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what to do, I don’t know how to help you.” He lightly caressed her hair, barely touching her at all. “I wish this were just a nightmare or a joke. Please, tell me you’re joking. I surrender, you won, you scared the hell out of me, but please wake up.” She was so beautiful, so pure, a small smile gracing her lips… but she wasn’t smiling a few minutes before. Realization hit him together with a great need for vengeance. Grinning, he let his hands wander lower until they were lightly touching her waist, and then the Dark One did a thing he never thought he would do.  
He _tickled_ her.

One second later, Belle burst out laughing, trying to get away from him. 

“Ok, ok, I’m awake, now stop.” She said in between laughs. 

“You. Little. Cheater.” He said, as he finally stopped. They were both panting by then and he  gladly noted that her laugh had managed to wash the fear of the last hours off of him. “Were you awake all along?”

“I didn’t _cheat,_ I merely used some of the sleeping drug you gave me when I couldn’t sleep because of nightmares. And no, I only woke up a few minutes ago, when I heard the noise of glass crashing.” Crap. This meant she’d heard all of his speech. He was an emotional idiot.  
“So the broken vials, the strange liquid pooled next to you…”

“Were all part of my plan, yes. I just broke a some empty vials and poured some totally armless things I found in here over them. I mostly used essences and a couple drops of dragon blood.” She smiled at him and took his hand in hers. “I’m sorry I scared you, but I really wanted to win this prank war.” Being too distracted by the feeling of her warm hand on his, it took him a bit to process the exact meaning of what she’d said.  
“You haven’t won yet.”

“Oh yes, I have, Don’t you remember? You clearly said you surrendered.” The wicked smile that she cast him was more fitting to a little demon than to a woman born and raised in nobility. She definitely was a mystery to him.

“That’s not fair, you tricked me! I didn’t really want to surrender!”

“Well, willing or unwilling you did it, so I’m the winner. Isn’t it wonderful that I managed to trick the Trickster?” He pouted like a child.

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.” She leaned closer to him, gazing into his eyes like she was trying to read his very soul. He got up hastily. 

“Well then, _dearie_ , let’s get you your prize and get this over with. I have more important things to do than playing silly games with the help. I’ll be in the hall spinning, tell me when you’re ready for your damn stroll through the garden.” Belle smiled as he poofed away. He was such a sore loser.

She entered the hall not much later, bundled up in wonderfully warm clothes and a beautiful woolen cloak. None of that clothes had been in her room that morning but they had suddenly appeared after she’d won. Sometimes she really wondered how could Rumplestiltskin have such a bad reputation.

“Thanks. For the clothes, you know.” He muttered something about not wanting his maid to catch a cold and sneeze on his collection and led her outside. 

The garden was stunning, and she dragged Rumplestiltskin along with her as she admired every single detail with the enthusiasm of a child. Rumplestiltskin, however, was still quite rigid, quite detached, and she decided that she would have none of that. She wanted to see him _alive_ , less grave, just as he’d been while they pranked each other. She looked at the snow at her feet and got an awesome idea. She started gathering it and shaping a ball, hiding behind a tree to avoid his gaze. When the snowball was ready, she spied on him and saw that he wasn’t looking at her, his back totally exposed to her icy blow. She wondered if it was fair of her to hit him when he was off guard like that, but it wasn’t like she was doing something that bad.

A snowball had never killed anyone, after all.


End file.
